Raoul Allebrecht
Character backstory Although my active service spanned only a few years at the time, the things I had already seen and done made it feel like a lifetime. On the other hand, four years can pass in the blink of an eye if you're not paying attention. Being shot at relatively infrequently certainly helps. Following the surprise attack on New New York, my leave was extended to an indefinite period of time. I can understand the RDF's concerns for my mental well-being. I had just led the defense against a surprise attack which threatened to level the city I was living in, despite the fact that I was actually off duty. The attack could have claimed the life of one of the few surviving people I cared for, and did indeed cost the lives of three from my squad. I was now the last surviving member of the original Player squadron, and as its commanding officer the deaths wore heavily on me. Yes, a prolonged vacation was necessary. I am not one to stay inactive for long, though. After no more than three months shacked up with my lovely lady, I was phoning up friends in the RDF. It was not for combat assignments, though - I could take my valkyrie up when I wanted under the guise of "skill maintenance," and I had no desire to do so in a war zone again just yet. Instead, I sought support for a little hobby project I had been working on for some time. For nearly as long as I'd been flying a valkyrie, I'd been fiddling with plans for a better one. Not just notebook doodles, either. I mean night classes in drafting and the intricacies of mecha electronics. The VF-1 is an amazing machine in every way, but there are things we know now that we did not when it was designed. The design would be considered 'aging' even without the accelerated technological advancement gained from Zentraedi ships, and flying one regularly makes one acutely aware of any shortcomings. It is only natural to find oneself thinking, "I could do better." Still, I knew that I was no professional, despite the years of leisure-time research I had invested. Calling in favors and promising eternal gratitude to everyone I knew with any pull at all, I was able to secure tangible support for the proposals I had submitted. Key items included limited high-level security clearance and placement at a facility in Japan where I could construct a prototype. The astute reader will also note that this put me in a prime position to pick the brains of some of the world's foremost experts in protoculture technology and mecha engineering. With their assistance, I was able to refine my design into something entirely feasible and even begin constructing a prototype in just over a year. During this time, I flew less often, and traveled less as well. I was so focused on making my design a reality that I neglected the entire purpose of my leave. Around the time we began construction of the prototype, I realized that burnout was setting in and I needed to do something about it. Thankfully, my personal list of things to do was still far from empty, and it only took a few careful changes to turn my depression right around. First off, I took up martial arts. Being in Japan, it was not difficult to find a real school where I could properly learn to use a sword, as I had wanted to do since Kiari was killed. Since my real effort was still elsewhere I didn't attain any real level of skill, but the focus and exercise were of great benefit to my mental health. I suspect, however, that even greater benefit was gained from another action I took. I brought my valkyrie with me to the States for one of my infrequent visits, and took Sherri up for a flight. With her in my lap, looking down on our home from orbit like the night we met, I asked her to marry me. In those few months together before I left for Japan, I had realized that she meant so much more to me than just another off-duty fling. What's more, when she returned to Japan with me, I had someone to come home to for the first time since the Rain of Death. Rejuvenated, I continued work on my pet project, now codenamed the YF-19 in sequence after the many other prototype variable fighters in development. This should have been a hint of things to come, but I ignored the signs and continued on. Around 18 months after prototype construction began, I received an invitation to bring my now-fully-functional fighter to a testing facility. There, it was to compete against prototypes from several key industry players for selection as the new standard variable fighter - both for Earth defense and the top-secret Pioneer Mission. The competition turned out to be far from a fair fight. I was able to bring out some former squad mates to act as neutral test pilots, but an opposing team recruited one of them once I had filled my roster. I witnessed 'accidents' during the testing and received death threats myself, likely from industry figures who were upset about my presence. In the end it turned out the competition had been little more than industry lip service anyways, as the RDF was already committed to the Alpha and Beta fighters designed by the esteemed Dr. Lang. The competition did reveal useful information, though. It turned out to be very obvious to all attending that I was a pilot first and engineer second. My design was built from the same basic airframe as the VF-1, and the changes were one part "I saw that on another mecha and liked it" and two parts "more power!" The result was an amazing fighter - in the hands of an experienced VF-1 pilot like myself. Unfortunately, skilled pilots were few and far between. The Global Civil War, the Robotech War, and the reconstruction era had taken their toll, and a new generation of pilots was just barely coming into their own. These kids were ready to take enemy lives, but the learning curve of the YF-19 was just as likely to take theirs. The Alpha and Beta, by contrast, were smaller and offered simplified controls, making for a much more newbie-friendly package. The Alpha and Beta also used a totally new design for their power plants, utilizing small protoculture power cells instead of a full reactor. Though this saved a large amount of protoculture, the cells were quite short-lived. Although I disliked the idea of of flying My First Valkyrie with a short fuel supply, both of these considerations became even more crucial with the launch of the Pioneer Mission just around the corner. The Pioneer Mission, made public shortly after the competition, had the stated goal of negotiating peace with the invisible overlords of the Zentraedi, the Robotech Masters. However, despite high hopes, nobody was pretending that diplomacy was likely to succeed. The Masters had ordered our genocide, and we had to be ready to respond in kind. I, along with nearly all of the remaining RDF forces and even parts of the fledgling Southern Cross, had been selected to come along for the ride. I had only a little over a year in which to set my affairs in order. My wife, now pregnant, was to stay on Earth. Although many crew members were able to bring their family along, this was a military expedition and I did not wish to endanger them. With a little arguing, though, I was able to bring along my other baby. In my younger days, I spent some time as an Army chopper pilot before enlisting with the RDF. During that time, and the basic training that came before, I became close friends with many of my fellow Army men. Some of my closer buddies went on to enlist with the Southern Cross and become hovertank pilots. It was through them that I heard of Col. Wolffe, who was such a fan of the hovertank that he had convinced the REF brass to allow a small regiment aboard the SDF-3 (flagship of the Pioneer Mission). Using this as precedent, I argued that my fighter design - while still inappropriate for the rank and file pilots - would be far superior to the Alpha for aces such as myself. Though it took much arguing, I was able to secure hangar space and maintenance resources for a small wing of fighters. I spent much of my remaining time preparing for the mission. I underwent training programs to gain passing familiarity with the Alpha, the Beta, and the new Cyclone power armor. Time not spent training was spent tuning the YF-19 for production. The production model VF-19 was truly a beautiful machine, and I went so far as to practise my martial arts katas in battloid mode to fine-tune the controls to my liking. I also designed some simple booster packs and armor units, much like the old Super Veritech that I loved so much. These would help it compare favorably to the enormous payload of the Alpha and Beta. Speaking of the Super Veritech, most were decommissioned as the Alpha and Beta were phased in. Others, primarily those personalized by officers and aces, were given to their pilots for personal use. Using some of my own savings and siphoning funds from my development budget for the rest, I was able to secure a small underground hangar deep in the Australian outback for my precious VF-1S and a few loads of ammo. She had served me well for years, and I wanted to make sure she was secure and ready to fly if we ever returned. After all, one can never be too prepared. The rest of my money was left to my wife and newborn son. I would do all I could to ensure their comfort and well-being, even if that meant leaving them behind. Though it hurt, I was still excited on some level about the prospect of leaving. I had been off duty for too long - it was time to fly. Post-Rifts Goals In the short term, Raoul's immediate desire is to figure out what happened, where they've gone, and get home. His family's safety will weigh heavily on his mind, having seen the Haydonite fleet betraying the REF as they were taken away. The new world and new technology will certainly pique his curiosity though, and he would quickly come to understand that accumulating power and resources just as they did on Invid-occupied Earth might be the only way to be prepared for any opportunity to go home that might arise. To that end, he will likely make it a priority to add as much new technology as possible to his existing knowledge base. The supernatural is intriguing, but he will quickly find that his own awakening psychic potential meshes well with his love of technology, and the time it would take to immerse himself in learning the mystic arts is a luxury he can ill afford. Since Raoul already has a family, his primary desire is to see them be safe and cared for. In another life, he might have just been an engineer, maybe on an athletic scholarship. He would have been happy to settle down and raise his family, and wouldn't feel much of the wanderlust. But this life has been different, from the moment his father was killed in action. Time and time again, he has felt the call of responsibility, the need to step up to defend family, friends, and home from alien threats. His experience with Zentraedi defectors and the Sentinels has expanded his perspective on what it means to be "home," or "his people." He has come to realize that human culture is what needs defending, and his experiences on this new world will only reinforce that. He does not necessarily enjoy the responsibility, but he accepts that he will not escape it. Therefore, settling down is flexible, and home is where you make it. It is likely he can accomplish the most by settling down to accumulate power and influence as described, likely in an alliance with or in service to a powerful human society such as the New German Republic. In the long term, this means that he would be unlikely to settle down on his home Earth again, given the opportunity. If he could see that his homeworld was safe, and bring his family to a safe enclave on the new world, he would very likely do so in order to continue his work. Because of that, Raoul remains loyal to the idea of the military, if nothing else. For the last few years, preserving structure and discipline have been as much a survival tactic as anything else, and that too will only be reinforced in the near future. He will once again feel the pull of responsibility, to ensure the safety of the other soldiers with him. In practical terms, this probably means becoming an elite mercenary unit until they can establish a more long-term plan. So long as they only take morally acceptable jobs, he sees no conflict between doing good and accepting (or demanding) money. Every soldier deserves his pay, and keeping their gear and supplies in good shape will be key to their survival. Longer term, he would prefer to have the support of a real military over the wandering adventurer or local warlord lifestyle, though given many of his past experiences, he may chafe at finding himself ordered around by dull brass once more.